Unknowing
by next-to-nerdy
Summary: What if it was all just a figment of a disturbed imagination? REVIEW! MAKE MY DAY! Rated for some harsh language and scenes of distress. SamPOV, ANGST. VERY AU COMPLETE
1. I can’t see him

Ok, just something I came up w/ while sitting in my psychology class. It's a short little one chapter deal. I know I may have seen something similar, but any similarities are completely coincidence.

Also, this is 90 dialogue, so I'm sorry if it gets confusing…I tried to make it as easy as possible to understand.

_**Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchester boys (sadly) or their family. Don't sue me, I'm poor.**_

* * *

"_Dean?"_

"Yes?"

"_Tell me about your mother"_

"Why do you keep asking me about her?"

"_I want to know what happened"_

"But I told you before, she died"

"_Tell me how"_

"No"

"_Why not?"_

"Because I don't want to tell you again"

"_I can't help you unless you help me, Dean"_

"Who said I needed your help!"

"_Calm down…Please; just tell me one more time"_

"…on the ceiling, burnt to death"

"_On the ceiling?"_

"YES! ON THE CEILING!"

"_And you saw her on the ceiling?"_

"Well…no"

"_How old were you?"_

"Four. My father handed me Sammy and told me to get out of the house"

"_Then how do you know she was on the ceiling?"_

"He told me"

"_Your father?"_

(Nod)

"_Tell me about him"_

"My Dad? He went crazy after that. He went on a 'crusade'- as Sam would say. He was hell bent on killing the thing that killed her"

"_And you helped him?"_

"He trained us as little soldiers. We both helped him until…"

"_Until What?"_

"Sam went to college. Then it was me and dad hunting"

"_What were you hunting?"_

"Ghosts, Demons, whatever else we could until we found the thing that killed her"

"_Did you ever find it?"_

"No, Dad went missing"

"_He did? What did you do after that?"_

"I went and found Sam at Stanford. I needed help and I couldn't think of anyone else"

"_Tell me about Sam"_

"He's my trusty geek-boy, always there in a pinch. He doesn't know how much I need him but I don't think the feelings are mutual"

"_How do you know?"_

"He wants to leave me, just like everyone else"

"_Everyone?"_

"Everyone who loves me…leaves me"

-:-:-:-

Dr. Michaels stopped the tape. Mary, John, and Sam looked on is stunned silence.

"He has created a fantasy world." Dr. Michaels explained "One he's been living in for weeks now"

"But how?" Mary sobbed. John tried to comfort his wife by placing his large arms around her.

"Probably a form of coping, but it baffles me"

"Baffles you? Why? Aren't you supposed to be his doctor?" Sam asked rather heatedly.

"Well, if this is meant to be a defense mechanism, he would have typically created a world where he felt safe and secure. Dean has done the opposite. He goes on later to explain moments of intense peril where he, his brother, or both of them are in great danger or almost dead. He uses fanciful language such as monsters, ghosts, demons or otherwise to explain what he is battling that week. it just confuses me"

"Can I see my son?" Mary cried.

"I don't think that is such a good idea. After all, he believes you are dead and his father is missing" Dr. Michaels said. "The only one I would consider letting in to see him is Sam"

"Why?" all three asked in unison

"Because you are the only one he has expressed any form of trust in. he does, after all, believe he is on a ghost hunting road trip with you in his fathers 67' Impala"

"I can't see him" Sam said "it would be lying to play into his fantasies"

Dr Michaels shrugged "ok, its your choice. But I still don't think your parents should see him either. Any extreme shock to his system would be harmful. After all, Dean has no idea he has been in this hospital all his life"


	2. Take me with you!

**_After much bugging, I've decided to take a crack at the second chapter of this story. Please keep reviewing; it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. _**

**_Written from Sam's perspective but heavy Dean angst! Seriously, I couldn't write it without crying, so I warn you ahead of time…have tissues handy._**

* * *

"Remember Sam, since we are unclear as to how he will react, play into whatever he tells you…if you can" Dr. Michaels explained to the absently nodding Sam as they stood outside Deans room. His mother had begged him to go in and talk to his brother, for her sake, and he reluctantly said yes. "We will be watching via camera, if you want to leave, just say so and someone will come get you" 

Dr. Michaels opened the door to Dean's room and the two of them walked in. Dean was sitting Indian style on the plain bed leaning his head and back against the wall behind him. he looked much like Sam had remember from the last time he had visited his brother, even down to the black tee and blue scrub pants he wore. His hair was short and mussed, light beard stubble grew on his face, and his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

"What do you want now?" Dean sighed, never looking away from whatever he was looking at.

"Dean, someone is here to see you" Dr. Michaels replied, trying to keep his voice light and happy.

Dean finally looked away from the ceiling and turned his head to glare at them. However, his hazel eyes brightened and he smiled when he saw Sam standing next to the doctor, but he said nothing.

"Hey Dean" Sam said nervously, shifting from one foot to another. The doctor smiled, nodded, and left the room, leaving Sam alone with his older brother. "How are you?"

"Did they get you too?" said Dean simply.

"What?" Sam raised his eyebrows "No"

Dean's smile dropped "Are you one of them? They don't believe me, I know they don't…I can see you wouldn't either, which means they got to you. So again, are you one of them?"

Sam couldn't hold back the smile "No Dean, I'm not one of them."

"Then help me get out of here, Sammy. We have to find Dad, he's out there somewhere" Dean pleaded, hazel eyes boring into Sam. He couldn't help but feel bad for Dean, for how he acted, how he thought. But Sam knew, Dean was never exactly right in the head. But he seemed lucid and competent enough, even through the delusions he was living.

Sam pulled up the metal folding chair provided for him, and sat in front of Dean. "Where do you think Dad is?"

Dean looked confused and slightly betrayed "You know where dad is, Sam. He's out there all alone, trying to find the demon that killed mom and your girlfriend, Jess"

It was Sam's turn to look confused. Who was Jessica? Dean had never met his girlfriend and her name wasn't even Jessica….he didn't even know someone named Jessica.

"What killed them?" Sam asked, honestly curious as to what was going on inside Dean's head. What story did Dean conjure up for himself, and why did it involve him? Sam hadn't seen or talked to his brother since he left for school three years ago. Why the sudden interest on Deans part?

Dean's face seemed to grow more sullen "you don't remember?"

Sam shook his head "No Dean, remind me" he replied calmly

Dean searched Sam's eyes for a long moment before answering. Sam didn't fully understand why. He assumed it was because Dean couldn't remember the fantastical stuff he had been through, even if it was his own minds creation. "You don't know about the demon, do you? The one that killed mom so horribly as well as your girlfriend" Sam could see Dean was holding back tears and the confusion and despair was brimming at the surface. "Sam, Me, you, and Dad have been on a hunt for that thing for almost a year. You were so hell bent on finding it you became reckless…until I ended up here"

"How did you end up here?"

"I don't know…I don't remember" Dean replied quietly, almost in a whisper. He looked down at the floor and an expression of sheer confusion came across his face.

Sam felt now was an appropriate time to leave; his brother was visibly agitated and lost. "I'm ready to leave now" Sam said loud and clear.

Dean looked up at him, fear and shock dancing in his hazel eyes "You're leaving me!"

"I have to Dean…I don't belong here"

Dean was panicked now "No Sam, Please…I don't belong here either…take me with you"

Sam could feel the tears stinging his eyes as Dean pleaded for his help, help he couldn't give. Dean grabbed Sams shirt collar "Am I in hell?"

Sam could hold back no longer and the tears started flowing on their own accord. He grabbed a hold of his brother and hugged him for all he was worth. Dean held on tightly, crying as well, pleading for Sam not to leave him alone.

And orderly opened the door not five minutes after Sam announced he was ready to go. He could feel Dean tense up, refusing to relinquish his hold on his younger brother, the only one he trusted in his world. "Please Sam…"

In the end, Sam had to pry Dean's hands off his jacket and the orderly had to hold Dean in place to keep him from following his brother out the door.

Sam stood there for a while, listening to his brother yell for him to come back, to not leave. Sam knew Dean was unstable, but hearing it all got to him, hitting right in his heart.

The orderly stepped out and Sam caught a glimpse of Dean, lying on the bed, probably sedated. He squeezed his eyes shut against the new tears that there threatening to flow and made a promise to himself that he would never listen to those doctors again. He felt responsible for leaving his brother like that, he was the only one Dean trusted in his whole messed up universe…


	3. I'm bringing Dean

**_A/N: I don't know what possessed me to do this…maybe the overwhelming response to a story that I HONESTLY didn't think was that good. But hey, ya'll surprised me, so I'm gonna reward ya's by opening this up for a third chapter and see where it takes me. Enjoy and keep reviewing!_**

-----

Sam bit the nail on his thumb, a nasty habit he had since childhood. He was in his small, one bedroom apartment on campus, the events of the day were wearing on him. How could Dean be that way? Granted, he had heard of cases where people spontaneously generate fantastical stories, but Deans case was amazing.

When he got home that night, he immediately set to work researching his brothers conditions, not really knowing what he was looking for. Dean hadn't gone into that institution until he was nine years old, plenty of time for his brain to snap. What confused Sam was why and how his brother seemed to never get better. In fact, Dean seemed to slowly get crazier, for lack of a better word, over the years.

There was definitely something going on, something doctors didn't want to tell him or his family. Sam dropped his hand to his lap and taped his foot nervously, though he didn't quite know why he was nervous. Just a phantom anticipation he had in the pit of his stomach that screamed at him to go back to Dean and talk some more.

How could he go back though? Dean wasn't making sense to him and the longer he had stayed, the more agitated Dean had become.

"Sam, you're being silly" he mumbled, placinghis head in his hands and rubbing his temples in an attempt to quell his frustration. "Go to sleep and forget about it. Go back to visiting Dean once a year, if that, and it'll all be okay"

The moment he had said it, he regretted it. How could he think something like that about his own flesh and blood? He shook it off and quickly changed out of his hoodie and jeans into pajama pants and a tank top.

He had to literally plead with himself to go to sleep that night, his mind still reeling. Why couldn't he just get the image of his brothers distraught face from his mind, the way he desperately clung to his hoodie, and the way he called for help. "Son of a bitch…" Sam mumbled and pressed his pillow over his head. Slowly but surely, he drifted off to sleep.

-----

He didn't hear the phone until the third ring. In all actuality, he thought he was dreaming and was quite pissed off when he realized he wasn't. He looked at the obnoxiously bright green numbers on his bedside clock and cursed at the 3:15am reading. "Yea, what is it?" he half yelled into the receiver after he had finally picked it up.

"Sam, its dad…I have some bad news"

Sam sat up a little straighter in bed and switched ears hastily as if he could hear better in hif left ear as opposed to his right. He could hear sirens blaring behind wherever his father was, along with hurried voices he couldn't seem to make out. "Dad? What's going on?"

"Sam, it's your mother…she's dead"

Sam almost dropped the phone. He had just seen her not 6 hours ago and she was fine, completely healthy. "Wh-What?…How?"

"You're not going to believe me if I tell you"

Sam ignored the pained voice of his father and pushed for the information he so desperately wanted "God DAMMIT Dad, How?"

"In a fire…"

His father paused as if he was holding something back. Sam knew it and waited for him to continue. When he didn't, Sam had to push again. "Dad? What else?"

"Sam…I-I don't understand myself. It j-just can't be right."

"DAD, Tell me!"

"She had gone to bed just after you left. You know me, I'm a night owl and there was some old John Wayne movie on television, so I stayed downstairs for a while. I finally wend upstairs to sleep at about 2:45. When I got to our room, she wasn't there. I figured she was in the bathroom or something and I laid down. When I opened my eyes, there she was, bloody on the ceiling…"

Sam's stomach dropped to the floor. Dean was right? "W-What?"

"I know, You're as confused as I am. The minute I got up to help her, the whole friggen room burst into flames. I stayed as long as I could, but she was gone and I ran" His father began to sob on the other end of the line.

Sam felt like doing the same, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. He mind was running in all different directions at once, or so it seemed. "Dad, Go somewhere safe and call my cell when you get there"

"What are you going to do?" his father sniffed

"I have to…go somewhere. I will meet you wherever you go, just call me" with that, he hung up the phone, quickly threw on a jacket, and ran out the door. He had to talk to Dean.

-----

He arrived at the asylum at 4:00am, hardly close to visiting hours. He didn't even expect the place to be open to the outside, but the front doors still opened when he pulled on them.

He had made it to the front desk, surprising the hell out of the front desk clerk, who almost spit out the sludge that passed for coffee in her mug. "Sir! What are you doing here? Visiting hours aren't until 8! You'll have to leave!"

"No, I have to speak to Dean Winchester…NOW!" he demanded, slamming he hands on the counter.

She jumped to her feet at the impact of his fists to Formica. "SIR! I'm going to have to call security!"

Sam glared hard at her and leaned over the desk "Listen lady, my mother died not two hours ago, are you going to stop me from talking with my brother?"

She had the phone in her hands and her fingers poised on the numbered key pad of the old fashioned phone. She was thinking about it, he could almost see the wheels turning. She could get in very big trouble if she let him pass, he knew that, but frankly, he could care less at the moment. She put the phone back down slowly and deliberately turned her head away "I didn't see you enter…I was in the bathroom" shesaid evenly.

Sam nodded his thanks and headed toward his brothers room.

The hallways were dark in the early morning hours and Sam found it harder to find his way. He could remember generally where he needed to go, the area the staff called the 'Lifers' ward. It was where all those who had been in and probably would be in all their miserable lives were housed. Many of them were patients who were beyond cure or rehabilitation, Dean being one of them.

Once Sam found the ward, he began looking in the tiny windows of the doors to each room, looking for one specifically. Many of the people he looked at were pacing or knitting something that wasn't there or even talking to themselves about how waterloo would have worked had they been in charge. One man was even boxing with Mohammad Ali in the middle of his room. How did Dean end up here with all the really crazy people, Sam would never know. Dean seemed lucid and sane enough when he had talked to him earlier that afternoon.

The very last room Sam looked in before he would have given up and chocked the whole night up to a VERY bad dream was where he found him. Dean was sprawled out on the bed, much like he had been when Sam had left him, his eyes closed and his head tilted to one side. He was probably still sedated, which would make talking to him an adventure.

Sam tried the handle of the room, but the thing wouldn't budge. Why he even thought it would have been left open, was beyond him. He mentally slapped himself and set out in search of the key card he had seen the day staff use to open the door.

Across from Deans room was a desk, lying right in the open was just such a key card. "Idiots" Sam mumbled as he swiped it off the desk.

He used the card and waited to hear the buzzing sound that would let him enter the room. Once inside, he closed the door quietly and stalked up to Deans sleeping form. Sam almost hated doing this, but he had to know. "Dean…" he whispered, shaking his brothers shoulders slightly. Dean didn't make a sound, he just continued to lay there.

"Dean, Wake up…" Sam said a bit more forcefully and shook his brother a little harder. Dean groaned and drew his brows together in frustration. He was trying to wake up, but whatever drugs they had given him wouldn't relinquish their hold. Sam finally resorted to slapping Dean across the face.

Deans eyes fluttered open and tried to focus on Sam. "Dean, I need to talk to you, wake up fully" Sam demanded.

"Sammy!" Dean slurred and smiled "Didn't I just see you?"

"Yes, and I have to talk to you"

"you said that…" Dean pointed out. "About what?"

"Mom"

Deans eyes shot open and stared unblinking at Sam. "Mom? What about her?"

"She's dead Dean…She died like you said she had. I want to know what you know!"

"Why? No one believes me anyway. Besides she died a long time ago" he said and closed his eyes again as if he wanted nothing more but to drift off again. "Why the sudden interest?"

Sam slapped Dean again. "Dean, who killed her?" Sam pushed, gripping his brothers shoulders tightly.

Dean stared up at him, a twinge of fear and confusion playing on his face "A demon, Sam. I've said it a million times!"

"There is NO SUCH THING" Sam yelled and pressed harder on Dean. "Who did it and how did you know it was a fire?"

"Sam, it was a demon…" Dean replied calmly

"STOP SAYING THAT!"

"What would you like me to say?"

Sam would have answered, but his phone rang and startled him. "WHAT?" he yelled into the receiver

"Sam?" his fathers gruff voice said from the other end "What's going on?"

"Nevermind…where are you?"

"The motel six off the highway, room number 12"

"We'll be there in a half hour"

"We?"

Sam looked down at Dean, who had managed to lift his weak body into a sitting position on the bed. "Yea, I'm bringing Dean"


	4. I am SO going to Jail for this!

He got into the hospital easy enough, now smuggling out a patient who was half drugged was going to be a bit trickier. How long do they send people to prison for stealing (more like borrowing) a crazy family member from an insane asylum? He had to be crazy himself for even considering doing what he was about to.

"Dean, listen to me," he started, kneeling down to Dean's eye level "I'm gonna get you out of here so you can help me, okay?"

Dean stared at him groggily "Why? You didn't want me before"

Sam straightened up, surprised and a little hurt at the comment. At that moment, Sam realized how very childlike his brother was. He needed to be reassured constantly, something Sam was finding increasingly annoying.

Sam stared hard at Dean, commanding with a look for his brother to listen and listen good "Mom died tonight Dean. Do you understand that? She died just like you said she had…you're the only one with a clue here, even if you are a few cards short of a full deck"

"I'll ignore the jab at my intelligence." Dean said wearily, rubbing his foggy head. He then lifted his head quickly and unexpectedly as if something Sam had previously said finally hit him. "And what are you talking about 'she died tonight'? Mom's been dead for over twenty years"

Sam sighed and dropped his head, shaking it slightly. He didn't have time to argue with Dean, so he lifted him the best he could from the bed (Dean was heavy and still sedated) and used his shoulder to support him.

"Where are we going?" Dean slurred, trying to regain use of his limbs rather then moving them sluggishly…and doing so unsuccessfully.

"To get dad and figure this out together" Sam huffed.

Dean laughed "Good luck with that"

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled Dean with him to the door. He opened it as silently as he could and peeked out, still no one roaming around. What kind of institution was this that they didn't even have security guards? "C'mon, the only one we have to worry about is the front desk clerk" he told his brother and pulled him through the hallways toward the hospital exit.

"Where is the car parked?" Dean asked

"The front parking lot…why?"

"Use a fire exit. Once the fire department is notified, we'll be long gone. We would have five minutes, plenty of time to-"

"How do you know all this?" Sam interrupted. Dean simply smiled.

Honestly, what Dean had suggested made perfect sense. There would be enough chaos to let them slip out undetected. _'Oh, I am **so**_ _going to jail for this…' _he thought as he hoisted his brother to the nearest fire exit. The minute he pushed the door open, the alarms began to sound. One lucky thing was he could see his car from the exit doorway. The two brothers shuffled to the little beat up Toyota Sam had worked hard to buy when he was 19 years old.

"What is that?" Dean sniffed

"My car"

"The little Toyota POS? Sammy, get some style. When we get out of here, we're finding my car"

Sam raised an eyebrow as he helped Dean into the back seat, motioning for him to lay on the seats to stay out of sight. "What? The infamous '67 Chevy Impala that doesn't exist?"

"It exists…and I know just where I left it" Dean answered with a smile, laying his fuzzy head on the seat as Sam climbed into the drivers seat.

Sam sighed, rolled his eyes, and started the car.

-----

They got onto the road with no problems, every-so-often passing a fire truck with it's sirens blaring.

"Sam, pull over" Dean said suddenly from the back seat "I think I'm gonna hurl"

Sam pulled over just quick enough for Dean to stick his head out the window and puke. When he was done, Dean sat back and wiped his mouth on the back of his arm. Sam stared back at him from the drivers seat "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, the drugs are wearing off…this happens all the time. Those sadistic bastards…" Dean said

"All the time? They have to sedate you a lot?"

"Well, I'm not the most cooperative patient" Dean admitted with a proud smile.

"Di-did they do anything else to you?" Sam built up the nerve to ask. He had wanted to know since earlier that previous afternoon when he had seen his brother for the first time in years. He didn't look good then, almost gaunt with weariness and what seemed like fear at the time.

Deans smile dropped and that familiar look of anguish returned to his eyes. He deliberately looked away from Sam and out the window. Sam felt immediately sorry for asking and wouldn't blame Dean for not answering, but his curiosity got the better of him. For the second time that night, Sam mentally slapped himself.

He turned back to put the car in gear, but stopped when Dean spoke, quietly at first and with broken voice "I was electro-shocked once…about a month ago. It was for something stupid like flipping off an orderly or something. They said I was a menace and a danger to other patients as well as myself…to which I promptly told them to shove it. I regretted that, really quickly…I have been strapped to the bed for days at a time, deprived food, degraded and abused…all for being supposedly out of line and _delusional_. No matter what you may think, that place is not the sunshine and giggles you think it is. And that Dr. Michaels might as well be his own little Spanish inquisition. He puts on a show when the patients families come in, but otherwise he's a heartless motherfucker."

Sam hadn't bothered to look back at his brother as he spilled the horrors he had been through. Rather, he kept his hands firmly on the steering wheel, gripping tighter as Dean continued, his voice rising with anger:

"I didn't deserve to be there in that witch trial of a place. If you didn't admit you're illness, they forced it out of you, be it with hallucinogens or deprivation until you yourself believed you were crazy…I'm not crazy, Sam."

"Did they break you?" Sam asked through gritted teeth, his knuckles growing increasingly white on the steering wheel.

He felt Dean turn back to look at him, though Sam didn't turn around to meet his gaze. "No" Dean answered simply.

Sam didn't know why, but he believed Dean. He believed his brother wasn't making his fantastical stories up…though the time frame may have been warped, Deans tales were starting to come true. Sam silently put the car in gear and sped off, not saying a word. He sensed his brother was thankful for it.

-----

They were not ten minutes from the motel when Dean told Sam to pull over once more. "You have to throw up again?"

"No, its my baby!" Dean exclaimed, almost pressing his nose to the back drivers side window.

Sam obliged, pulling his Toyota to the side of the road. Dean hopped out so quick, Sam didn't have much time to put the car in park and follow. "Dean! Where are you going?" he yelled, running after his brother.

Dean ran to a remote and shady ally. Sam was amazed that he knew where he was going, being that he was in the asylum since he was nine. "Dean, this is stupid, lets go back to the car."

"I'm _headed _to the car…have some faith in your big brother, Sammy" smirked Dean.

Sam reluctantly indulged his brother, but if he kept calling him Sammy he was going to hurt him. He was willing himself to hold back the eventual 'I told you so' when they didn't find this car.

"There she is!" Dean exclaimed, pointing at an unopened garage. "I had hid it before…well, you know…"

Sam paused and gasped as Dean lifted the garage up and there sat a jet-black, mid sixties model, Chevy Impala SS. "What the hell is going on?" he mumbled to himself as Dean rushed to the automobile and hugged the hood.

"Dean, this has to be a coincidence…it just has to be! You don't have keys to this, it isn't yours" said Sam.

"Gotcha covered…" Dean replied, kneeling down and reaching under the bumper. He produced a ring of keys and Sam's mouth dropped even more, if it was possible. "Close your mouth Sam, you'll start collecting flies"

"B-bu…h-how…I-I don't get it" Sam stammered.

"No one wanted to believe me…" Dean mumbled to himself as he climbed into the drivers seat and started up the growling engine with a smile. He stuck his head out the window and called to Sam "Motel six off the highway? I'll meet you there. Which room?"

"…12..."

Dean smirked and nodded, gunning it out of the garage and onto the street, leaving Sam standing like an idiot.

Sam realized when he got to the motel, Dean probably wouldn't be there. He now had a car (which he shouldn't be able to drive) and would probably skip town. That car couldn't be his, it was impossible…then again, so was being burnt to death on the ceiling, but it had happened to his mother a few hours ago. It was going to be Sam and his Father on this, now that he made the mistake of letting Dean drive off out of his sight.

-----

Sam stood at the entrance of a very empty room number twelve. The door had stood open as he pulled up and the interior was dark. His father wasn't here, but most of his stuff was. For the third, fourth, and fifth time Sam mentally slapped himself for letting Dean go. How could he be so stupid! Dean was now three for three. Their mother had died horribly by unseen forces, the Impala actually existed, and now their father was gone. _'Maybe I'm the crazy one' _Sam thought, sitting on the still made double bed and staring blankly at the wall. He was now alone.

For the first time allowed himself to cry, placing his head in his hands and sobbing like a child. He was hurt, sad, and scared for obvious reasons. What made it worse was he could do nothing about it.

"I told you he wouldn't be here" a voice said. Sam lifted his head from his hands and quickly wiped the tears away. Dean was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed in front of his chest, just staring at him. Dean had changed from the worn scrubs and black tee to ripped jeans and a maroon button up shirt complete with black work jacket on top.

"What? Are you here to rub it in that you were right all along? Spare me…" Sam sniffed, looking at his shoes.

"Now why would I want to do that? I want to get a hold of him more then you know. I've…I mean, we've been looking for him for almost a year now with no luck"

Sam stood up quickly, kicking a near by trash bucket in frustration and throwing various items across the room. Dean just watched and waited for Sam to finish his tantrum. "Are you done?" he asked when Sam stood still, breathing heavily.

"NO!" Sam screamed, glaring at Dean with such anger he was surprised Dean didn't burst into flames "I JUST SAW HIM THREE HOURS AGO! He's not gone! He must be out or something! You're simply insane, simple as that!"

Dean quirked an eyebrow, but stayed leaning against the doorframe calmly "I'm the insane one? So what I was in an asylum for God knows how long, but who's the one throwing a fit in a motel room? The Johnny Depp thing doesn't suit you, Sammy"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

"Fine, touchy…" Dean moved away from the frame and headed for the small dinette set next to the bed. He sat in one of the chairs and looked up at his huffing brother, spreading his arms wide "I don't know what to tell you Sam, it's a shit straw you pulled"

Sam dropped to the bed in a huff and glared hard at Dean, pointing an accusing finger at him. "No, this was all just supposed to be a figment of your screwed up imagination, not mine! God Dean, you've been in that friggen hospital since you were nine!"

"No I haven't, how many times do I have to tell you people…seriously, it's getting annoying" Dean replied calmly. To calmly for Sam's liking. "I have to thank you by the way, for getting my sorry ass out. I'm sure if I was left in there, I would be dead within a few months…probably self inflicted"

"Yea, well, I regret it already" Sam deadpanned. Dean laughed at him, to which Sam replied by throwing a pillow at him. "So I guess we wait for him, maybe he'll come back"

"What do you mean we? He isn't going to come back and you obviously have some fantasy life going here…even if it's in you're head. The last I heard, he was in Missouri, that's where I'm going. You're welcome to join me"

"You'll never make it out of the state. By now they'll have pictures of you sent to every news station in the country…mine too, come to think of it…you're an escaped mental patient, one who you yourself deemed as dangerous to others" Sam said weakly, completely drained all of a sudden.

"A chance I'm willing to take. You coming or not?"

Sam thought about it for a second. He would be leaving his friends, his school, his life to go on a wild goose chase that may not even exist. "Yea, I'm in…" he answered, suprising himself.

"Great!" Dean exclaimed and stood up. "We'll take my car"

"What about mine?"

"They'll be looking for your car…Don't you think?"


	5. Nothing like a good kick in the nads

Sam didn't realize just how loud silence could be when that's all you had to listen too. The awkwardness between Dean and himself was steadily growing and it was driving him crazy. He wanted to say something, anything, but what? 'Sorry we all thought you were crazy, no hard feelings' just didn't seem to be appropriate. He sat in the passenger seat of Deans car and thought, something he really wished he didn't have the capacity for at the moment.

He was so stupid. Why did he leave his comfortable life to go state to state with a brother he barely knew (and a brother who he knew even less the longer they were together). Dean was unpredictable and pushy and completely pissed him off.

They barely spoke to each other. What was there to say, they hardly knew one another, well, at least in Sam's mind they didn't. Dean still held on to the belief that they were close in some way. HA! Close? How was that possible?

"What's on your mind" Dean said out of the blue.

"Nothing" Sam answered levelly, looking at the blurring trees outside the car window.

"You got that right" Dean responded

Sam turned his head to Dean and glared as hard as he possibly could. Dean glanced over from the drivers seat and, oddly enough, smiled "C'mon Sam, lighten up"

"Why should I? I just left my safe and secure life to go god knows where with _you _of all people"

"Missouri" Dean corrected

"What?"

"We're going to Missouri"

"I'm insane…that's the explanation…I should turn us both in and be in that asylum with you. I bet that would solve all my problems"

Dean laughed "Yea, sure it will. You know, beside the sheer torture, it was a pleasure cruise"

"Have you always been a sarcastic asshole?"

"Pretty much" Dean replied with a smirk. Sam just wanted to reach over and punch him in the head as hard as he could. But what would that accomplish, aside from making Sam feel better for a while?

Dean pulled his car into a small, out of the way, shit hole gas station in bumfuck, nowheresville America. Sam could almost feel the hillbilly stench in the air. It was a little disconcerting.

Dean got out and slowly began pumping the gas his baby so desperately needed. Sam could hear him humming some tune through the car window and it was annoying him to no end. Almost everything Dean did had that effect on him. To drown it out, Sam turned on the radio to catch up on the latest sports scores. ever since he left for college, he became and avid baseball fan. The Cardinals had just kicked the Phillies' asses when a breaking news bulletin broke in…

'_This just in, we have correspondents live in Lawrence, Kansas where there has been a major breakout in the Kansas Memorial Asylum. Patient, Dean Winchester, one of the hospitals most dangerous subjects, has escaped from the high security wing late last night. Reports claim, that he then went on a rampage, setting fire to the house his parents we're sleeping in, tragically killing his mother and kidnapping his father. His brother has also mysteriously disappeared. Authorities are on the lookout for a man in his late twenties with dark blonde hair, medium build, and green eyes. He is considered extremely dangerous. If you have any information, please contact your local authorities'_

Sam was holding his breath and his eyes probably couldn't get any wider without them falling out of his head. They were screwed. He frantically looked around the small gas station parking lot. There was three rednecks filling up their truck and the station attendant. Had they heard the broadcast?

He saw the station attendant run out to the truck and mumble something the one of the hicks. Oh crap, he just pointed at Dean. They _HAD _heard!

"Dean, get in the car" Sam said, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible

"Why? I'm not done filling the tank"

The hicks were looking over now. They recognized Dean! Oh hell, now they were walking towards them! "Dean! Get in the God Damn car!"

"Fine, jeeze! Don't get your underroos in a bind" Said Dean, putting the nozzle back a little too forcefully.

"Hey you!" one of the rednecks yelled. He was huge and burly and was staring his crooked, three-toothed, pockmarked face right at Dean. Dean idiotically turned to him, ignoring Sam's pleas to get in the car and go.

Crap! Sam jumped out of the car, ready to do something if he had to…though not really knowing what. He had never been in a fight in his life.

Dean smiled widely at the man "What can I do for you, my hillbilly friend?"

"You're that escaped mental patient, aren't you?" the man hissed.

Yet, Dean did not falter, his smile remaining firmly in place "No, I have no idea what you're talking about"

"Yea. Its you! The one that dun killed his mother and kidnapped his father and brother!"

Dean quirked an eyebrow and laughed, a big booming guffaw in his face "Are you kidding me? My father died ten years ago and my mother lives happily in Florida!"

"Is that so? Then who's this?" the redneck asked, motioning with his head to Sam "I bet this is your kidnapped brother"

"My gay lover" Dean answered without hesitation. Sam would have done a spit-take had he been drinking something. Did he just call me his gay lover?

By now, Hillbilly Joe's buddies had come and flanked their friend, glaring just as hard, if not harder, at Dean. But, to his credit, Dean never backed down. He kept their gaze with a smile on his face. Sam envied his brother right at that moment because he himself was scared shitless.

Without warning, the man took a swing at Dean, nailing him in the jaw. Deans body flailed backwards and twisted, landing him face first on the side of his car. He steadied himself and turned back to the redneck, stretching his aching jaw. "You shouldn't have done that" he said, grinning wickedly.

The redneck laughed this time, clutching his side. Dean began to laugh as well, only his had something behind it, something Sam couldn't place. Dean winked at Sam a split second before kicking the redneck in the balls. He doubled over, falling to his knees and choking, unable to catch his breath through the pain.

While his buddies were busy trying to help him up, Dean ran for the drivers side and threw the door open. "Get in, Sam!"

Sam couldn't move. He was frozen is shock and surprise, not to mention sympathy pains for this man who just got nailed with deans heavy boot to the Johnson. "Look what you did!" he cried

Dean ignored him, Climbing hastily in the drivers seat and starting up the car. "I'll leave your ass here! Now get in!"

Sam climbed in quickly and Dean gunned it out of the station.

Sam didn't speak again until they had the three screaming men in the rearview mirror. "You kicked him! That poor man!"

"Nothing like a good kick in the nads, is there?" Dean replied, never taking his eyes off the road ahead of them.

"Why didn't you just tell him off or something?"

"You think that would have worked? He knew who we were Sam. Either way we were screwed. The station attendant was already on the phone before the guy came over to us"

"You _knew_!"

"Of course I did."

"Then why didn't you get in the car when I asked you to?"

Dean shrugged "I knew something was up, I just didn't know what exactly it was"

Sam placed his head in his hands in frustration. "What was up, Sammy?" Dean pressed.

"We're wanted men, that's what's up" he answered through his fingers "The cops pinned you as mom's killer, saying you escaped from the hospital and set fire to the house. They said you kidnapped me and Dad, too!"

"Well then, what with all the _we're _wanted men crap? I'm the one they want…as usual…"

He had a point. They thought Sam was a kidnapping victim. An odd sort of idea creeped into Sam's mind. If he turned Dean in, he would get off scott free and with no legal blemishes on his record.

"That's a horrible idea…" he said out loud, regretting it immediately. He hadn't meant for it to be heard.

Dean looked at him quickly, an odd expression on his face "What's a horrible idea?"

"Nothing…forget it" Sam answered quickly. Dean stared at him for a second longer before turning back to the road, thankfully.

"I wonder why they're framing me?" Dean asked

"Probably so you're caught quicker" Sam answered, feeling the twinges on a headach coming on.

"Well, we can't let _that _happen. We haven't found Dad"

Sam pressed his fingers into his eyes, trying to force the approaching migraine down. It was probably being caused by Dean's incessant talking.

"Sammy? You ok?"

Sam tried to wave him off, but the pain was quickly intensifying. Suddenly, passing through the wall of pain, he sat in a while room. Wasn't he just in the car? What the hell is going on?

"Alright Mr. Winchester, time for your therapy" a voice said. He was hoisted to his feet, kicking and flailing, and dragged out into a hallway and into another room, this time fill of wires and medical equipment.

"Wait! No!" he yelled, his cries falling on deaf ears. "I'll be good! I promise!"

Even though he put up a valiant effort, they managed to get him strapped to a metal gurney, pulling leather belts across his wrists, feet, chest, and head. A face came into his line of sight. He recognized him, that was Dr. Michaels. "You need to learn some manners son" he said, shoving the bite plate into his mouth. All he could manage now were frightened muffles.

Someone crudely stuck his arm with a needle and he suddenly felt sick, as if he had taken one to many sleeping pills. His mind was fully awake but his body decided it was time to sleep. No! he had to fight them, struggle somehow. No use.

They had made a point to show him the apparatus before they used it, probably for more effectiveness. Two metal rods with rubber ends hissing with electricity came into view. He knew where that was going and tried to do everything in his power to stop it. Unfortunately, they had turned off most of his power with whatever was in that needle.

He shook his head as much as he could with useless tears stinging his eyes as the good doctor came to stand at his head, those torture rods firmly in his hands. "Now, we will learn, won't we?" he asked.

He nodded. Maybe if he agreed, they wouldn't touch him with the electricity.

"Good" and the rods touched his temples. Searing pain ran through him and his whole body arched in response. He clamped his eyes shut tightly against it all.

When he reopened them, he was back in the car, pressed up against the door as far as he could be without melting into it, crying out. It took him a second to realize Dean was holding onto his shoulders, calling his name

"Sam! Sammy!"

"_That's _what they did to you?" he sobbed, finally calming down. He noticed now that Dean had pulled over to the side of the road. It was probably hard to drive with a franticly flailing person in the passenger seat.

"What are you talking about?" asked Dean, eyes full of concern.

"The electroshock…I just saw the whole thing"

"You had a vision? Of me?"

Sam nodded, though he didn't really believe it himself. It had to be Dean though. He didn't have memories like that. Yet, now he understood. He finally _got _Dean. His brother was treated horribly in that hell hole.

"Oh God, Dean, I'm so sorry" Sam cried "I don't know how we could have-"

"Stop" Dean cut him off, releasing his shoulders "Just stop"

"But-"

"No! I know what I went through, ok! I don't need your sympathy either" Dean spat, turning back to the steering wheel and putting the car into gear. Sam wanted to say something, anything to make up for what he felt responsible, but dean wouldn't let him. Rather his brother pulled out onto the highway without another word.


	6. Thats What They Did to You?

_'So now I'm having visions? Could this get any worse?' _he thought, nursing the small bottle of water Dean managed to snag for him at an out of the way 7-11. '_Who am I kidding? Of course it can.'_

"Headache subsiding?" Dean asked, passing Sam two aspirin from the first-aide kit that was tucked under the front seat. Sam simply nodded, slowly placing the cold bottle on his temple and taking the pills from Deans outstretched hand.

"Thanks" he said, popping the pills into his mouth and swallowing them dry.

He was vaguely aware of Dean sitting down next to him on the hood the Impala. "So, you had a vision about me, huh? Was I naked?"

Sam shot Dean a disgusted look and Dean simply smiled innocently. "What? Lose the stick up your ass and take a joke. What do you say?"

"No" Sam replied dryly. He had thoroughly had enough of Dean's smart remarks. Why couldn't he be serious for two minutes? Was it so hard for him to understand that this was so new to Sam? He didn't usually get into fights in a gas station with a huge redneck while being wanted by the law.

Dean shrugged and turned his attention to the empty stretch of road they were on.

"So, uh, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Have I always had these…visions?" Sam asked, trying desperately to avoid Dean's eyes. He looked instead at the dusty yellow ground. He really did feel funny for asking. He didn't even have to look at his brother to guess he was smiling at him, probably a smug I-told-you-so grin. He chanced a look and was surprised when Dean was also looking at the ground, nodding slowly.

"Yea, you have…well, sort of"

"Sort of?"

"They only started about a year ago, but since then they've been becoming clearer and more intense"

Well, that was definitely a different experience for Sam. And he didn't think the word 'intense' covered it. He was thinking more like horrifying and sickening, amongst other things that wouldn't be appropriate to say out loud. "Wonderful" Sam muttered sarcastically.

Dean sighed and crossed his arms across his chest "Look, I understand you have this notion that this is all new to you. And I'm willing to work around that, but you really do need to trust me"

Sam sighed also, only his was more of a defeated exhale. He tapped the bottle against his head, hoping that if he did that enough he would knock some sense into himself. But alas, he was in this for the long haul and might as well accept it. "Fine, I trust you."

"Good" Dean said with a grin "Now, get your ass in the car so we can go, psychic wonder". Dean got up off the car and headed for the drivers seat. Sam sighed, shook his head and smiled as well.

-----

Sam's head lulled against the passenger side window, reveling in the coolness on his still aching temple. The green blur of the trees flying by was hypnotic and he could feel his eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. Then something caught his eye, it wasn't much more then a passing second, but it was plenty of time for Sam to read. A highway sign flew by and he could have swore it said "Houston Texas, three miles".

'_Houston? Weren't we heading to Jefferson city, Missouri?' _he thought, lifting his head off the window and looking back at the back of the sign growing smaller as Dean drove.

"Uh Dean?"

"hmmm" was the small reply from his brother.

"Where are we going?"

"Houston" Dean answered as if Sam should have been well aware of the fact. Well, Sam didn't know that. He was expecting to go to Missouri with Dean, find their father, talk some sense into the man, and head home to his life. He had no intention on doing ANYTHING but that. Why the _hell _were they going to Texas? Sam brought this to Deans attention.

"Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you" he said innocently

"Yeah, I'd say you forgot!" Sam snapped. He felt like all he seemed to do was fight with Dean, something he was getting thoroughly annoyed with. "What's in Houston?"

"A job. Thankfully while I was in…you know, they let me have the newspaper. I guess they figured I couldn't hurt myself or anyone else with a newspaper. Anyway, I kept tabs on strange deaths and disappearances and this one in Houston caught my eye"

Sam wasn't following. What the hell was a 'job'? His face must have echoed his feelings because Dean sighed and continued.

"There's a nasty poltergeist in a Houston suburb, we're going to help"

Sam was trying, he really was, but this was just something that made him laugh. He just couldn't hold it back. Dean sent him intermittent unamused glares between watching the road as Sam just continued to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Dean finally asked once Sam had stopped laughing long enough.

"I'm sorry, it just sounds like something out of a bad horror movie. You know, 'Go into the light Carol Anne!'" Sam replied before breaking into laughter again

Dean seemed to think about it for a moment before his mouth cracked into a toothy grin and before long he was laughing right there with his brother. "Yeah, it does seem very cheesy horror movie, huh?"

Sam nodded, still laughing slightly. It was then that he realized he just had the first real brother moment since he broke dean from the asylum. It was strange, but as they laughed together, familiarity seemed to creep into Sam's mind.

-----

They say everything is bigger in Texas, Sam wouldn't know because he didn't realize that when Dean said 'suburb' he really meant 'Bumfuck, Texas. Just left of Nowhereville and if you hit Nothing town, you've gone to far'. The little town, if you could call it that, that they drove through sent uncomfortable visions of the movie _Deliverance _into Sam's head. If he saw _one _banjo, he was running out of there.

When Dean pulled his Impala into a local Motel, if you could call it that, Sam glared out the window at the small cabins that looked like they hadn't seen a coat of paint since 1956.

"Dean, I thought you said suburb?" Sam asked as Dean was climbing out of the car.

"I did" he answered, pausing with his feet sticking out of the car.

"Well, I would say the boonies would be closer to a suburb then this"

"Yea, well, tomato tomata" Dean mumbled before getting fully out of the car and striding to the office with hands buried in his pockets. Sam, however, elected to stay in the car.

Sam sat and watched the wind blow someone's hanging laundry when he felt the first pangs of a headache coming on. _'Oh God, not again!' _he thought as the pain of the vision hit him full force.

_Hunger and weakness were the first to register in his brain. He was so unbelievably hungry and his mouth was so dry he would kill for a drop of water. It was also so dark. _

_He squinted as the only door opened and one of the orderlies from the other vision was standing there. "Now Mr. Winchester, do you think you can refrain from biting?"_

_He felt himself nodding but he would have agreed to anything at the moment for some food. _

"_Good, because you can come right back to solitary if you insist on biting other patients"_

"_What is this? Some kind of sadistic prison?" He rasped _

"_Well, if you're going to be fresh, you stay in here for another day" the orderly snapped and moved to shut the door._

"_No! Wait" he called, reaching for the door but just missing as he was enveloped in darkness again. "Shit!" he yelled, banging futilely at the door "You son of a bitch, let me out!"_

"SAMMY!"

Sam's eyes flew open at the sound of his brothers voice calling his name.

"Sam, are you alright?"

He stared wide eyed at his brother for a long moment, reassessing his perception on reality. Dean was gripping his shoulders as Sam tried to push himself into the door again, kicking out in response to the vision.

"That's it!" he cried once he got a good grip on his reality again "I've had enough! I'm not cut out for this! What the FUCK is going on!"

"How many times am I going to have to answer that question for you, Sam?"

"As many as it _fucking _takes!"

"Nope, you need to sleep or something. I think you're losing it" Dean said calmly.

Sam glared hard at Dean. How could he have the audacity to say _he _was the one going crazy?

"C'mon Sam, I got a room and we'll chill for the night before heading off on this job" said Dean before Sam had a chance to yell again. Sam was actually grateful for that.

"Why can't we just go find dad?" he asked, a whole lot softer then he had previously been speaking. He thought that he almost sounded like a pleading child talking to a parent.

"We will Sammy boy. we'll just do this first. Trust me, I've been researching this case as much as I could, or was allowed, for the past six months. It'll go quick, just do this for me, okay?"

Sam nodded "It's not like I have a choice"


	7. Like Ridin' a Bike, Isn't it?

**_A/N: Uh…sorry…would you take "I was busy" as an excuse? No? How about "I was distracted by a shiny object"?_**

_**This is just a filler chap. No real furthering of the storyline here. Fair warning. The next chap will answer A LOT of questions. -insert maniacal laughter here-**_

_**-----**_

In his lifetime, Sam never thought he would be standing on a decrepit dock in a shit hole town, holding a shotgun full of rocksalt and looking for a poltergeist. It's just not something normal people in society do. Yet here he stood, clutching a shotgun to his chest with the smell of stagnant water and rotting wood filling his lungs and his brother standing beside him with his own shotgun trained expertly before him. Yeah, this was definitely a twilight zone moment. He would pinch himself, but he didn't think it would do any good.

For the life of him, Sam couldn't figure out how such a small town could be located next to such an old and, not to mention massive, lake.

Dean had told him back at the hotel that these strange occurrences seem to gravitate toward the docks. He tried to quell Sam's growing aggravation and anticipation by saying they were helping the greater good by getting rid of this poltergeist. Greater good? What the hell did that mean?

"Where is it, Dean?" Sam found himself asking but only garnering a look from his brother telling him to shut his mouth. That is exactly what he did, at least for a few minutes.

"Dean?"

"What, Sam!" Dean snapped.

Sam was taken aback from his reaction and seriously considered not speaking again. However, curiosity got the better of him. "What exactly is the rocksalt supposed to do?"

"Salt repels spirits. It won't kill them. 'Cause you can't kill something that's already dead, obviously. It will stave it off for a while."

"Well, how do you get rid of it?"

"We have to find the bones and salt and burn them." Dean answered with a small smirk before walking into what looked like an old fishing storage hut.

Sam hesitated at the entrance. And he would be man enough to admit he was more then a little scared. After all, this was all so new and he would give himself a gold star for effort just for making it this far. However, the place looked like it was one giant health code violation after another. The creaking wood siding was splintering and had enough mold on it to pass as a paint job. Old rusty equipment, that was a death trap waiting to happen, was leaning against the sides, long forgotten by its previous owners.

"Sam?" Dean had popped his head back out of the dark doorway and was now staring at his brother. "You coming or not?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"C'mon" Dean sighed before again disappearing inside the dark entranceway.

Sam reluctantly moved into the doorway behind his brother into yet another decaying room full of rusty fishing hooks along with various other tools and blades. Sam could feel himself getting tetanus just by breathing the air. All it would take would be one missed step and he would probably be impaled on something...most likely everything.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam whispered, watching very carefully every step he took as he walked through the threat to life and limb.

Dean made an indeterminate noise and Sam took that as acknowledgement of the question, so he continued.

"How do you know the body will be in here?"

"My aren't you Mr. '20 questions' today." Dean retorted, never taking his eyes away from the task at hand.

"Well, I just want to know. I mean, you seem to know where you're going."

"I asked around. In small towns like this, everyone knows the local legends. I corroborated the legends with what I found in the library, if you could call a garage with ten books in it a library, and went from there."

"You know what corroborated means?" Sam laughed, but stopped quickly as Dean turned to glare at him. "Sorry. Well, what's the legend then?"

"Turns out this town is quite the little slice of history. In the 1840's, a fishing magnate by the name of Silas Jones worked out of this dock, employing many townspeople and providing much needed income for this small little village. However, good ol' Silas wasn't all sunshine and lollypops. He ran his dock with the iron fist of a slave driver and the sticky fingers befitting a greedy entrepreneur. There was a mutiny of sorts and the workers up-rose against him, demanding better wages and fairer hours. Silas refused. When they got a hold of Silas, lets just say, he was shaken loose this mortal coil."

Sam scrunched up his face in disgust "Like they killed him?"

Dean nodded.

"Then how do you know his body is still in here?"

"No one found his body."

"Wouldn't it start to smell?"

Dean ignored the question and continued, "Legend has it that they stuffed him under the floorboards and continued about their business. Very morbid. After that, strange things started to happen."

"Like what?"

"It started small. Typical Casper stuff, you know? Things moving on their own, strange noises, items disappearing." Dean recounted

"But I assume it didn't stay that way or else we wouldn't be in this disease ridden dump." said Sam, looking about.

Dean smiled and nodded "Nope, it didn't. though, it stayed pretty quiet until quiet recently."

"What happened?"

"You know those disappearances I told you about?"

"Yeah."

"Well I guess the poltergeist got tired of taking trinkets and moved a step up."

"To what?"

"People"

Sam gulped. "People?"

Dean smirked at Sam's reaction. "Yeah. I guess, after a few hundred years of being royally pissed off, Silas is finally deciding to do something about it."

Dean decided to move along, again training the gun before him.

"But how's he getting a hold of people? I mean, the sites been condemned, right?" Sam pressed, tagging along after his older brother.

"You know how these small towns work. No real form of entertainment, so kids make their own. What could be more fun then daring each other to go into a supposedly haunted place? It's just, they actually have a paranormal experience. Now shut up Sam and start looking for loose floorboards"

Sam looked down at his feet. "Dean, they're all loose. I'm surprised we haven't fallen through yet."

Sam could swear he heard Dean giggle in front of him, even if Dean didn't seem like the giggling type. Sam continued behind his brother like a little brother should, close by and on his heals. It wasn't until he found the floorboards rushing past his face did he separate from Dean.

Sam landed with a splash as he fell through some rotted planks and into another flooded room. Thankfully, the water was only chest deep and he didn't hurt himself. Looking up, he realized he didn't even fall that far, the gaping hole in the ceiling was only about 8 feet above him.

"Sam!" Dean called as his head popped into view above Sam. "You alright?"

"Yeah" Sam replied as he pushed his soaking hair off of his face. "You know, aside from the fall into disgusting, smelly water, I'm peachy"

He could almost feel Dean smile without looking up. "Hold tight, I'll go see if I can find something to pull you out with."

Sam waited until Dean disappeared above him to look around. Just a plane room, nothing special about it. It was completely empty.

The sound of splashing behind him caused Sam to turn quickly. He couldn't see anything. Then again, it would be almost pitch black if it weren't for the hole above his head.

"Hello?" he called into the darkness.

Splashing again, as if something was moving quickly through the water. He turned toward the noise for a second time, still finding nothing.

Where was Dean with that help?

"Dean! Hurry up, man!" he called.

Again he heard the movement, only this time, directly behind him. So close, in fact, he could feel small waves break on his back. He was stunned still. Whatever was behind him, he could practically sense the close proximity.

He turned his head slowly to find a man standing behind him. However, this was no ordinary man. He was wearing a black period specific tailored suit, ripped in several places, to include the frayed ends where an arm should have been. His face was torn and bloody with an eye hanging out of a socket and swinging freely on his cheek. He was reaching for Sam.

Sam didn't think he could move that fast through water, but he backed away so quickly he even stunned himself. "DEAN!" he screamed.

Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone from its previous spot only to be behind him again.

"HOLY SHIT!" he screamed again, trying to get away for a second time.

"Sam, use the gun!" he heard Dean from somewhere above him.

The gun? Oh yeah! He had forgotten about that. Lifting the barrels to the ghosts head, he pulled the trigger releasing a blast of salt into the entities face. The salt pock marked the wall and the ghost was gone. All was quiet again, leaving only Sam's heavy breathing and the low sloshing sound as he turned this way and that.

"Sam?" he heard Dean from above. He looked up to find his brothers concerned face staring down at him. "You still breathing?"

"Yeah" Sam managed to squeak out.

"Dude, I can't find anything to pull you out with."

"What!" Sam cried.

"Calm down, Sam"

"Calm down!" he yelled "CALM DOWN!"

"Yes, take a breath, count to ten, I really don't care, but calm the fuck down Sammy"

Sam glared daggers at his brother but did as asked and took a few deep breaths. "Ok, I'm calmer."

"Good. Now look around. Do you see a door or an opening or anything?"

Sam looked around, but really could see nothing but shadows and darkness. "It's pretty dark down here Dean"

"Well, move around"

Sam's head shot up to glare at his brother. It was dark and he had already been accosted by 'good ol' Silas', as Dean called him. He had no desire to meet him again either. He would be perfectly happy staying in the faint light the opening above him provided. At least it was something. "Do I have to?"

"Yes Sammy. Unless you would like to stay down there."

Sam scrunched up in face in anger, mumbling a quick "It's Sam" under his breath and moving out of the safe glow of the light above.

He started by running his fingers across the waterlogged walls, hoping against hope to find a door or something, preferably with stairs.

Sam breathed deep and exhaled, continuing along with his search. He didn't stop until his fingers brushed something that obviously wasn't a wooden plank. It felt like cloth. He squinted through the darkness at what his hand was laying on and almost screamed again. However, he restrained himself.

"Hey D-Dean?" he managed to stammer out.

"I'm still here Sammy" was the obviously annoyed reply from above.

"I f-found it"

"An exit? Great! Get your ass up here."

"No, not an exit" Sam said

"Well what then?"

"Silas"

Sam stared at the body in his hands. It was badly decayed, though not quite skeletal. He figured, 200 some odd years in a hidden room would do that, not to mention the bugs or fish that lived in this stagnant water picking at the flesh over the years. It was missing an arm, just like the ghost Sam had previously seen, and its clothing was torn and ripped.

'_Poor guy.' _Sam thought '_Mean or not, no one really deserved this.'_

"Good job Sammy boy!" Deans elated voice from above said.

"Dean, I think I'm gonna puke." Sam replied, feeling the heaves coming on.

"Don't do that. Find an exit and bring the body with you."

That was yet one more thing he never thought he'd hear in his lifetime.

Sam dropped the body quickly and pushed it away from him for the moment. He continued his search of the walls. There was no door. There was nothing but more wall. This must have been some sort of abandoned storage facility that the workers threw Silas in and covered over. Sick bastards. No wonder the spirit was angry. Sam shuddered at the thought of being left down here.

A small breeze of cool, fresh air hit his face, halting his movements. It was coming through the wall planks. An idea hit Sam and he lifted the gun and used the butt end to hit the wall.

"Sam? What are you doing?" asked Dean

"I think this wall leads outside. I feel air" Sam answered, continuing his attack on the rotted wood. He broke through pretty easily, revealing the night illuminated lake. All it would take would be getting a few more planks loose and he could swim to shore.

The movement behind him started again and he turned quickly, scared Silas would know what Dean was planning on doing to his body. Nothing.

"Shit" he mumbled then frantically pulling at the wood before Silas decided go get up close and personal with him again.

He got two off before something grabbed his jacket and turned him around forcefully. The ghost was sneering at him. He raised the gun again to fire, but apparently this poltergeist wasn't stupid. It grabbed the barrel with its one and only hand and tore it from Sam's grip.

"Oh shit…" Sam managed before he broke off in a frantic swim to the body. Dean would kill him if he left without it. The spirit was right on his heals.

"Dean! Go outside and meet me at the dock!" he managed to call to his brother, but didn't stay around long enough to wait for an answer. He was being followed by a pissed off ghost and at that point really didn't care what his brother had to say.

Sam grabbed Silas' body by the shoulder and turned to head through his makeshift door. He ducked the spirits grip at him and pushed off the wall behind him to shoot through the water towards freedom.

He made it out into open water and swam for all he was worth while still gripping the body. He spotted Dean and a few teens standing on the dock. He must have found them while he was looking for that rope. They were probably those that went missing.

He didn't have much time to really think about it, Silas was skimming the water behind him and Dean was calling for him to swim faster.

"What the _HELL _do you think I'm doing!" Sam yelled back.

Dean had his shotgun out and ready. As soon as Sam got close enough, Dean fired and the spirit disappeared long enough for Dean and the teens to pull Sam and the body from the water.

Dean laid the body on the ground, pulled out lighter fluid and began generously spraying the soaked body of Silas. He followed that by sprinkling quite a bit of Salt on the body. He was about to throw his lighter on it when he was pummeled from the side by the poltergeist, sending him flying off the dock and into the lake.

Sam would have been hysterical had the spirit not set its sights on him.

"Sam!" he could hear Dean yelling and splashing in the water below. "Light it, Sam!"

Without thinking he grabbed the lighter Dean had dropped from the ground as the entitity advanced on him. He ignited the lighter and tossed it on the body just as the ghost pounced toward him. The body burst into flames, as did the spirit, covering Sam in a think cloud of ash as it exploded into nothingness.

Sam sat on the ground, coughing and gagging, for a long moment, letting his mind catch up to what had just happened. Part of him thought this was all oddly familiar while another part wanted to run screaming for the hills. Then again, he felt pretty proud of himself for what he had just done.

"Someone wanna help me?" he heard Dean yell. "My fingers are going pruney"

Sam and the others helped Dean from the water. The two brothers sent the teens on their way with a good warning not to go into supposedly haunted places. And they headed back to the car, both soaking wet.

"You're not getting in my car like that" Dean stated.

Sam looked down at his drying clothes and then back at his brother "You look exactly the same!"

"Yeah, but you smell like dead dude. You'll stink up the interior"

"You're a dick"

"I try"

"Can we please go find dad now?" Sam pleaded

"Yeah" Dean replied. "Hey Sammy?"

"What Dean?"

"Like ridin' a bike, isn't it?"


	8. Ok, So Ghosts Were Real

-1**_A/N: No one panic! This is not a drill! I'm updating. Please, read in an orderly fashion._**

-----

Ok, so ghosts were real. Who knew? Besides Dean. With whom Sam was really starting to regret being related to. It was one thing when Dean was crazy, not to mention locked up where he couldn't wreak havoc. It was quite another to have him sitting next to you spouting ghost stories…which came true.

Sam shook his head at that thought as he sat on the bed in their dingy motel room, still damp from their previous escapade. Dean was busy taking a marathon shower, having been in the bathroom for the last half hour. He and Sam hadn't spoken much on the way back to the hotel. Mainly because Sam was a bit miffed that his psycho brother was, in fact, pretty cool. Yes, he was beginning to admire his brother, and that made him frustrated. He should have just stayed in his comfortable life after his mother died. Things were so much simpler then. But no, he had to know, had to find out the truth. But, son of a bitch, the truth sucked.

Sam stood and began to pace the room. He was beginning to wonder if Dean was sucked down the drain or something. He sniffed his jacket and pulled his nose back quickly at the strong smell of stagnant water on his clothing. He marched to the bathroom door to remind his brother that he was not, in fact, a fish and that others wanted to take a _hot _shower. He lifted his hand to knock and was just about to connect knuckle to wood when three knocks rang out.

He froze. Had he done that? As if visions weren't enough, now he could add telekinetic to his list-o-impossible? No, that was just his imagination. He raised his hand again and again three knocks could be heard. He then realized they were coming from the front door.

Sam cautiously made his way to the door. He didn't think anyone would be knocking considering they had put the 'do not disturb' placard on the doorknob so no one would see Deans…tools of the trade. He could hear the water turn off in the bathroom behind him and seriously contemplated waiting for Dean before he answered this door. After all, the things he'd seen and heard in the past few days, he wouldn't be surprised if Bigfoot was waiting on the other side of the door looking for a handout.

Warily, he looked out the peephole. Who he saw standing there made his stomach turn into knots and his knees weak. He turned and placed his back against the door, breathing heavy. More knocks could be felt through the wood of the door and he finally came to his senses. He slowly turned the knob and allowed himself to push off the door as it opened.

"Dad?"

John Winchester looked up at his son with a small grin on his face. Sam thought it strange that his father had looked so different from the last time he had seen him. He looked older, rougher, more battle hardened; as if he had been on the road for years as opposed to a few weeks.

"Hi Sammy." John said, his voice gruff with a mix of emotions Sam couldn't pin point.

This was the first time Sam had seen his father since his mother had died and he skipped town for no apparent reason. Sam didn't know what to say, so he stood still, blinking like an idiot as his father stood in the doorway.

John stared back, waiting for Sam to say something or at least invite him in. apparently his son had lost the ability to comprehend so John had to prompt him. "Sam? Can I come in?"

Sam stepped aside and let his father pass him into the room. He watched as John took in their small little palace with a grin.

"Dean sure knows how to pick those winners" he said, turning a smiling face toward Sam. "I taught that boy well. Save money for ammo, all you need is a bed and a take out menu to survive."

Sam didn't know how to start, how to begin telling his father what had happened and all about his time with Dean. First things first, however. "Why didn't you wait for me at the motel?"

Johns brows drew together, "Sam I…"

"I mean, you promised you'd wait, that we'd figure all this out together!" Sam interrupted "Then you just disappeared, leaving me with the mental patient! Who, by the way, scares the crap out of me. Do you know everything he told the doctors has come true? Even the goddamn car is real, its parked out fucking front! Not only that, I'm having visions…VISIONS! How am I supposed to react to that? Oh and we killed a spirit earlier. They aren't supposed to exist! I just don't know what's going on!"

His father listened intently to every rambling that left Sam's lips. However, the bathroom door opening halted any further long winded thoughts that threatened to come pouring out of him on their own. They both looked to Dean, who was exiting the bathroom, fully clothed in fresh tee and jeans and bent over slightly, rubbing his wet head with a towel. "Sam, who the hell are you yelling at?"

Dean looked up and froze, letting the towel fall around his face. Sam thought he looked oddly like a nun with the fabric draped around his head like that. Dean slowly pulled off the towel and let it drop unceremoniously to the floor. "Dad?" he said, echoing Sams previous reaction when he had opened the door.

Sam looked back at his father. John was smiling and looked almost relieved to see his oldest son. "Dean. Thank God you're alright."

It looked as if Dean didn't know how to respond, so he simply nodded his head. John walked over to Dean and hugged him tight, something he hadn't done for Sam. Sam felt slight twinges of jealousy beginning to nag him. Why wasn't he treated like that? Maybe because he hadn't given his father a chance to get a word in edgewise since he let him into the room.

John released Dean from the hug but continued to hold his shoulders tightly. "I hadn't heard from you in six months. I was beginning to worry."

Sam picked up on that. Six months? Dean looked to Sam for some sort of help, but Sam simply stood still, confused…again.

"Where were you?" John asked, still gripping Deans shoulders.

Dean looked down at his feet and shuffled them a bit. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

John finally let go and stood up straighter, "Try me."

Dean looked up from his feet and looked his father square in the eye, straightening his shoulders. "I was in the hospital."

Johns eyes widened. "A hospital?! How? Why? Were you sick? Hurt?" the questions flew a mile a minute while Dean shook his head to every one.

Sam realized Dean didn't want to tell their father. Why? Well, if Dean wouldn't then Sam would and maybe this whole confusing mess would be cleared up. "Dad, you know for a fact Deans been in a mental hospital."

John swung around quickly to face Sam. "A Mental hospital?!" he gasped in surprise.

Sam eyed his father confusedly, "You had seen him not that long ago, the day mom died actually."

Johns gaze shifted from Sam to Dean and back several times. Something wasn't right, Sam could feel it.

"Sam, your mother died years ago. Why would Dean be in a mental hospital when he was four years old when she passed?" John asked while taking a cautious step closer to Sam.

Sam could feel his body tense, his chest tighten, his breath stagger. Oh hell, he was having a panic attack…or another vision. He hoped it was the former. What was going on. He had talked to dad not that long ago and everything was fine. Hell, they were talking about going on a fishing trip for Christ sake. Now it was all spirits, demons and premonitions.

Next think he knew he was on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest.

Dean was on him in a flash. "Sam!"

Unfortunately, Dean was the last person he needed right now. What he needed was his simple little life back, his school, his family. Not this deranged, twisted version of the people he knew.

That was it, his brain couldn't handle anymore and he fell back into darkness. Great, he had fainted.

Wait, how would he know he fainted? Wouldn't he just wake up in some random place with Dean and his father looking down on him with smug grins because he passed out like a little girl who had just seen a mouse?

_Oh no…not again…_


	9. It Was Me All Along

Sam awoke disoriented and confused. Every other vision he had had never did this to him. His mouth was dry, his head ached, and he felt the sudden urge to vomit. This was odd, even compared to recent events.

He tried his best to sit up and rub the headache away from his temples. "That was weird." he mumbled before calling for his brother, eyes still pressed firmly shut against the pain. "Dean?"

No response. God, Dean was so unreliable. Never there when Sam needed him. "Dean?" he called again a bit louder. Still no response. Fine. Apparently he was going to have to take care of this boulder splitting migraine himself. He forced himself to open his eyes and couldn't help the squint against the faint lighting of the hotel room. At this rate, he was going to walk into everything.

He forced his eyes to adjust to the room and couldn't hold in the gasp. This wasn't the hotel room…This was somewhere else! Stark white walls contrasted with white linoleum floors greeted Sam. It looked frighteningly similar to Deans room when Sam had originally come to see his brother, before this whole fiasco.

"Oh my God, I'm in a vision!" he cried. Every other vision had something horrible happen. The first one was electroshock, the second was sensory deprivation. What sort of hellish treat was in store for him now? The hospital didn't have a Rack in the basement, did they?

Sam rubbed his face fervently, "Get a grip Sam. It'll end soon and you'll be back in the crazy land that had become your life."

A few more deep breaths and a couple more reassurances later, he had enough courage to get up and explore this room. He had woke up in a bed, bolted to the floor for patients safety obviously. The room itself was unsurprisingly bare. Why would they give dangerous patients anything they could potentially hurt themselves with and Dean was self proclaimed dangerous. If he was having visions of Deans life in the hospital, he probably should be grateful he didn't wake up strapped to the bed. He made his way to the small window in the door and peeked out. All seemed exactly the same as before. Orderlies roamed this way and that, doctors were making their rounds and he could hear the distant ramblings of a few other patients. All things considered, he was finding this vision far better then his others.

Sam sat back down on the bed and propped his head on the wall behind him. Something wasn't right. He was remarkably self aware for a vision. Shouldn't he be feeling more _Dean_ and less _Sam_? His concerns were intensified a few moments later when the heard the click of the door as it opened. In walked none other then Dr. Michaels, grinning from ear to ear. "How are we feeling today Mr. Winchester?"

"What do you want?" Sam bit out. He had seen with this sadistic bastard had done to Dean.

"Just to know how you are doing." Dr. Michaels replied calmly. "After your episode yesterday we had to sedate you. I know how that can effect you from time to time."

"Don't give me this good Doc bit!"

"Excuse me?"

Sam sat up straighter and shot the doctor his best evil eye. "I know what you did to my brother you asshole!"

Dr. Michaels sighed heavily and flipped open the chart in his hand. He read it carefully before closing it again. "The hallucinations haven't stopped have they?"

"This isn't a hallucination! I know you electroshocked Dean!"

"What?" The doctor said with an honestly confused tilt of his head. "Electroshock? Sam, your brother is in the waiting room."

"What did you call me?"

"Sam." Dr. Michaels replied as if it were the truest thing in the world. Sam's eyes widened. No, he was supposed to be having visions of Dean's experiences. This wasn't right, it couldn't be!

"No…It's a vision…" Sam whispered while trying desperately to make sense of the situation.

Dr. Michaels sighed again. "Well, I was going to let you see your brother but it seems as if your still having some problems. I'll tell him to come back in the morning."

Sam's head shot back to the doctor. "Dean's here!?"

"Yeah, I told you a few minutes ago he was sitting in the waiting room. He came back to see how you were doing after you had begged him to take you home. But it appears as if-"

"NO! I want to see him!" Sam cried. "I'll be good. I promise!"

Dr. Michaels looked Sam over for an agonizingly long moment. Sam had to see Dean, had to know what the hell was going on. If anyone knew, it was his brother.

The doctor finally nodded reluctantly and left the room. A few minutes later he returned. "Now Sam, if we have any problems, you know we will have to sedate you again?"

Sam nodded enthusiastically. At this point, the would have told the doctor he could fly if it meant seeing Dean and getting to the bottom of this. The doctor nodded again and stepped aside and Sam held his breath in anticipation. In walked Dean in all his Deanness. He looked just the same with his blonde tousled hair, scruffy cheeks and chin, brown leather jacket, jeans, and an appeasing smile. The doc and Dean shared a look for a moment before Dr. Michaels left the room.

Dean looked uncharacteristically nervious as he took a seat on the bed next to Sam. "Hey Sammy."

Sam looked Dean over and prayed that something in his brothers eyes would give him the answers he was looking for, anything to tell him that he was still in a vision. When he found nothing, he couldn't help but slump lower. "Dean, please tell me this is a vision."

"What?" Dean replied. "No, it's not a hallucination. Sorry Sammy."

Sam chewed nervously on his bottom lip. "Am I in hell?" his statement mirrored the one Dean had asked him when Sam had gone to see him for the first time. if that first time had even exsted.

Dean shook his head in the negative. Sam sighed heavily. "Damn, I was hoping it was hell…" he muttered to himself.

"Look, Sam," Dean began "I just…I wanted to make sure you were alright. I mean yesterday you said a lot of stuff that was hard to handle and I couldn't help but feel bad about it."

"What happened yesterday?" Sam pressed.

"You mean you don't remember?"

-----

"_Help me get out of here, Dean. We have to find Dad, he's out there somewhere" _

_Dean pulled up the metal folding chair provided for him, and sat in front of his brother. "Where do you think Dad is?"_

_Sam looked confused and slightly betrayed "You know where dad is, Dean. He's out there all alone, trying to find the demon that killed mom and your girlfriend!"_

"_What killed them?" Dean asked, honestly curious._

_Sam's face seemed to grow more sullen "You don't remember?"_

"_No Sam, remind me." _

"_You don't know about the demon, do you? The one that killed mom so horribly as well as your girlfriend?"_

"_Me, you, and Dad have been on a hunt for that thing for almost a year. You were so hell bent on finding it you became reckless…until I ended up here"_

"_How did you end up here?"_

"_I don't know…I don't remember" Sam replied quietly, almost in a whisper. He looked down at the floor and an expression of sheer confusion came across his face._

_Dean felt now was an appropriate time to leave; his brother was visibly agitated and lost. "I'm ready to leave now" he said loud and clear._

_Sam looked up at him, fear and shock dancing in his eyes "You're leaving me!"_

"_I have to Sam…I don't belong here"_

_Sam was panicked now "No Dean, Please! I don't belong here either! Take me with you!"_

_-----_

As Dean recounted the story, Sam couldn't help but become more and more alarmed and confused. "B...but, That was you. You begged me to take you with me then mom was killed on the ceiling, we were wanted by the law, you kicked a few rednecks in the balls, there was a ghost on a dock, and dad found us in a hotel room. I'm having a vision, that's all! It'll end soon and you'll be back to your normal crazy self pining over your Impala!"

"Sam, I'm sorry man." Dean said with a shake of his head "Look, I'm heading back to school tomorrow, I just wanted to see how you were and say goodbye."

"School?" Sam questioned. "You're in school? I was the one in school, NOT YOU!"

"Sammy, I gotta go." Dean finally said and stood up off the bed. Sam followed him with his eyes. Dean paused at the door and turned back "I'm sorry man. I'll see you soon."

Sam watched Dean turn and walk out, eyes wide in horror and understanding.

_'It was me all along…'_

_**-The End-**_

_A/N: I just wanna thank all those who followed this fic and reviewed. Even though it took me a long time to complete, you stuck with it, Bravo! LOL. Now, just to clarify, thw whole point was that it was SAM who was crazy and everything written was a hallucination in HIS head. he was projecting his life into Deans. Dean was really the normal one with the girlfriend and the school...hopefully it isn't all that confusing because it makes sense to me...then again, it is MY head we're in..._


	10. Epilogue

It's funny. Life comes at you quick. And by quick, I mean that life hits you in the face with the brick of reality just as you thought you had all your proverbial ducks in a row and laughs at you when your bleeding on the floor. I thought my life was great. I had a girlfriend, a family who loved me, and I was on the right path.

Yeah, sure, we had our blemishes. Doesn't everyone? Mine was a messed up brother who'd been locked up in an insane asylum for most of his like. Turns out, he wasn't so crazy.

As it turns out, all his so called delusions were real. The car existed, mom had really died in a fire caused by the unknown, and dad had run off. So what is a sane and rational person supposed to do? Kidnap their insane brother from the asylum and run off ghost hunting. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Well, it wasn't right. Everything in my life turned topsy-turvy after that. The things in the dark, the nightmares, existed. These were no fairy tales that Dean, and subsequently myself, were hunting. They were real entities hurting the innocent.

At the end, I finally began to trust Dean. If I hadn't, I would probably be dead. But. In trusting Dean, something worse happened. It turned out, I was the crazy brother. Everything was a figment of my own sick imagination. I suppose the first step is admitting I have a problem, right? That's what Alcoholics Anonymous says anyway.

Now, I simply stare at the white walls enclosing around me. The claustrophobia becomes unbearable sometimes and the sheer loneliness is torture. Maybe, just maybe, if I can get better, I can go find Dean and straighten this whole mess out. I could make him understand that nightmares were real. All they need to think is the meds and therapy were working, I could make them believe I was ready for society.

Even if I am crazy, at least I know the truth… I'm Sam Winchester, and I'm a hunter.

-----

A/N: I know I said I would do an alternate ending, but decided against it. Actually, I kinda like my ending :D. However, I am going to do a short little epilogue for this story. Honestly, it was always one of my favorites. So enjoy…


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